Warhammer: How do you get the Tremor-Tremor Fruit at the start of a Hextech game?

The weasel has appeared!

This was Qin Mo's first thought when he saw Archbishop Goodwin radiating golden light and unleashing psychic flames to kill "Licard".

It should be understood that the psychic power of the warp is considered extremely dangerous by the State Church; in fact, any power that may be associated with the warp is seen as a potential source of corruption.

However, there is one exception: extremely loyal humans, through their powerful faith, will gain the emperor's favor and become the vessel of the emperor's power, unleashing a powerful divine spirit capable of annihilating humanity's enemies.

Devout believers who gained the emperor's favor were generally called "saints".

Could this Archbishop Goodwin actually be a low-key "living saint"?

Qin Mo was filled with doubt, but also a sense of awe.

In this dark and hopeless universe, anyone who gains the Emperor's favor will light up the hope for that world in his place.

However, when Archbishop Goodwin saw the puzzled yet awe-inspiring look in Qin Mo's eyes, he simply smiled:

"Young man, no power is absolutely good or evil. Whether a power is filled with light and whether it has devout faith in the God-Emperor are the fundamental standards for judging it!"

As he spoke, he waved the scepter in his hand, and a golden light emanated from it, like the rising sun.

"That is a sacred object."

At this moment, Eileencia also walked to Qin Mo's side, carrying the crazed and cunning bishop who had severely depleted his life force in one hand. In this clash of psionicists, the Inquisitor had clearly won the final victory.

"A sacred object?" Qin Mo stared at the scepter, his eyes filled with curiosity.

Eileencia explained in a low voice, "Throughout the long history of the Empire, there have always been artifacts that possess immense power that have been passed down, such as the divine artifacts used by the Emperor, and the demigod relics kept by the Astartes Chapter."

Qin Mo stared at Archbishop Goodwin's scepter, feeling that it looked somewhat familiar.

"It is said that Archbishop Goodwin obtained the scepter from a desolate world when he was young. Rumor has it that the scepter is related to the first Imperial Chancellor, the great Imperial hero, 'The Seal Bearer' Macado."

Eileencia's tone was somewhat solemn, after all, "The Handprinter" Makado was very likely the creator of the Inquisition.

Qin Mo instantly understood that Archbishop Goodwin did not have any psychic talent; he had simply obtained a sacred object that allowed him to unleash psychic attacks.

At the same time, Archbishop Goodwin slowly walked to the side of Governor Tiberius, who was still unconscious, and gently waved his scepter.

Governor Tiberius finally awoke with a painful groan, which brought some relief to everyone present.

Governor Tiberius managed to stand up and, from Archbishop Goodwin's account, gleaned what had happened after he fell into a coma.

Looking at the banquet hall that had been reduced to ruins, an undisguised anger appeared on that resolute and handsome young face.

"Send Lilith and the head of the Grove family to my private medical room."

He looked at the two seriously injured family heads and continued through gritted teeth, "Kronos Guard, launch a full-scale attack on the Osiris family's territory! Don't let a single person escape!"

However, this was just the beginning. Immediately afterwards, the planet's governor announced with a grim face that he would retaliate ruthlessly against the rebellious aliens.

As planetary defense officers and administrative officials flooded into the governor's mansion, a series of decrees were issued, and the entire hive city's military and political machinery began to operate at high speed.

Qin Mo and Eileencia were also asked to stay at the governor's mansion temporarily to recuperate, so that the governor could consult them at any time.

For Qin Mo, staying here was not a problem; compared to Xiachao, the Governor's Mansion was undoubtedly safer.

But within a few days, he saw an undisguised tension and a deep-seated awe on the faces of those hurried government officials.

Everywhere there are signs that a storm is brewing.

He learned from an administrator that most of the Osiris family had fled to the Underhive, which undoubtedly made their relationship with the Underhive cult public open.

Meanwhile, several key factories in the lower nest were attacked by the Genestealer cult.

Cronus is on the verge of a full-blown rebellion.

Perhaps, as James, who escaped from Qin Mo's forces, said, the "Great Uprising" of the Genestealers cult has already begun.

However, none of this is the most serious problem.

What truly captured Qin Mo's attention was a simple report from Irenecia.

Governor Tiberius has already used the most lethal weapon of the Cronus family.

Given the deteriorating state of the capital, or rather, given that he could no longer pretend not to see the festering sore, Governor Tiberius decided to take action.

Governor Tiberius, in his capacity as heir to the Cronus family, sent a distress signal to the stars.

And the ancient Astartes Chapter, in accordance with the covenant dating back to the Great Crusade, responded to the Governor's request...

Not long after, one morning, officials from the Governor's Office notified all the prominent figures in the entire Nest City, who lined up to await them at the airborne landing platform in Starport.

A group of state priests were specially summoned here to play hymns praising the emperor, but all of this was interrupted by a deafening roar.

The clouds parted.

It wasn't blown away by the wind, but torn apart from the inside by some enormous force.

Lead-gray clouds tumbled in all directions, revealing the deep purple sky behind them—and then, the shadow appeared.

A "Thunder Eagle" gunship, painted in blood red with sharp lines and distinct angles, broke through the chemical clouds above the nest city. The plasma engines on both sides of the wings left two blue and white trails of flame, like sharp blades cutting through the sky.

Its size was breathtaking—a fuselage thirty meters long, a wingspan almost as wide as the tarmac, and every inch of its armor painted with deep red battle paint, like congealed blood in the twilight.

The battlecry emblem on the side of the fuselage was deliberately enlarged—a holy chalice filled with blood. It was the blood of Saint Gilles, the soul of the blood drinkers, the glory forged through millennia of war.

"By the Emperor..." someone murmured in the crowd.

The Thunderhawk hovered in mid-air, the airflow from its plasma engine blowing the dust on the ground into vortexes, lifting the neatly laid welcome carpet. The nobles in the front row of the viewing platform were covered in dust, but no one dared to raise their hands to wipe it off.

Because the belly hatch of the Thunderhawk was slowly opening.

They emerged from the hatch and slowly descended.

The ten Bloodthirsty monks did not use grappling hooks or jump. They simply stepped out of the Thunderhawk's belly in mid-air and landed steadily using the recoil from their jetpacks before gravity could catch them.

A figure.

Another one.

Another one.

Each landing was accompanied by a dull metallic clang, like a giant hammer striking an anvil. Ten clangs, rhythmic as drumbeats, each one sending a shiver down the spines of the spectators.

When the last monk landed, the entire helipad fell into a brief silence.

Then, some people began to pray.

It wasn't a requirement of the ceremony, but an instinctual drive—because everyone present realized that the person standing before them was no ordinary human being.

They are the Emperor's angels of death.